Crimson Summer
by KaiserinAstraia
Summary: The one where samurai Riku went to a brothel in the red-light district of 1700s Edo, Japan to lose his virginity, but got a lot more than he wanted in the process. Soriku, bg kainami, bg akuroku. Smut w/ Plot.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm so sorry, but I have to add a small dictionary of words because I use a lot of Japanese in this fic.

 **Shoji** : wooden sliding doors with translucent paper on.  
 **Edo** : the previous name for Tokyo.  
 **Kimono v. Yukata** : Kimonos are usually made with silk and are fancier. Yukatas are typically made with cotton.  
 **Okami** : God  
 **Natsu matsuri** : Summer festival  
 **Tsuki Ryuujin** : Moon dragon (I kind of made up this phrase, but tsuki is moon, ryuujin is dragon god, or dragon king)  
 **Tatami mat** : a kind of rush flooring used in traditional Japanese homes. Made of woven rush grass around a rice straw core, they are gentle but firm underfoot.  
 **Fundoshi** : traditional Japanese underwear, or loincloth. They are not sexy so just ignore it please lol.  
 **Onsen** : hot spring bathhouse  
 **Kagema** : male prostitute (through the story I'll be sprinkling in the history/traditions of this but just know, YES, THIS WAS A REAL THING IN JAPAN)

Okay, on with the fic!

* * *

 **~ Crimson Summer ~**

The shoji, a light wood with even lighter paper covering each square, was the only separation between the still, dusty summer air, and the heady, unknown territory that was just one of many brothels in the red-light district of Edo. And yet, the door was so _plain –_ and Riku felt foolish, having thought it would be different. He felt foolish standing here, at all. With breath held and an otherwise stoic face, Riku opened it. Foolish, again. The door was weightless and easy to slide across the floor; a sign that it had been opened many times, but not quite enough to suffer damage.

Riku wondered, vaguely, impertinently, if the same could be said of the people within. _Foolish_.

"Welcome!" a soothing, feminine voice said. Riku tensed like a cat on-edge. "Is there anyone you would like to request?"

Riku slid the shoji closed behind him, though the woman's question made him want to flee; not that his honor would let him. She stood in the entryway, not two feet away from him; a beautiful, stunning woman in _blue_. Her hair, her eyes, her kimono – all blue. She stood strong and still – statuesque – and yet somehow still _graceful_ , like she floated above the floor with ease, like the floor would be gifted by the touch of her feet.

And Riku stared at where those feet would be as soon as their eyes met. "No, no thank you," Riku said, harsh and rough. He cleared his throat.

He felt her eyes on him, silent, and he planned to run again.

But two men emerged down the hall. "Oh, okay now, I hope to see you soon!" the younger one said. His voice, melodic and smooth, demanded Riku look up from the floor – and _oh_. The young man – was he an _okami_ of summer? His hair was a _whirlwind_ of rich bark and earth colors, voice warm and light like the season. His kimono was red, too – feminine, with gold flowers trailing the sleeves and ends, folded high across his chest, coy. And his _smile;_ in it, Riku could almost _hear_ the laughing children running down the streets of the _natsu matsuri,_ feel the summer sun kissing his skin even from high in the sky.

"I hope so, too," another man said, and the sensation of summer wind ended under Riku's skin. His sharp gaze went to the one who spoke; immediately, it was obvious he was older, a monk by his garb – but unkept, a drunk, serene smile on his face.

The brunet – who Riku was now calling Summer – leaned up to hug him, and sent a wink to the woman in blue over his shoulder. "Oh!" the man cried in surprise, "Don't miss me too much." He chuckled, and Riku blinked again.

Were they… _familiar_? Did this man – this _holy_ man, this _monk –_ see Summer often? Was that common? _Monks_ had more experience than _Riku,_ the _Tsuki Ryuujin_ , and Lord Axel's right hand?

Summer giggled back. "Bye now!" His beautiful, full lips split in a smile, again. "I'll be waiting."

"Thank you, come again," the woman in blue called serenely to the customer. He laughed under his breath as he passed Riku through the shoji; though whether at him, or rather simply content, Riku couldn't say – but it sent an unpleasant chill through him.

He should leave. Axel's orders be damned – he was probably fucking around anyway, as he _always_ did– But he couldn't go now, with the man gone, with the two beautiful courtesan's eyes on him. He stood rigid, for _once_ wanting to appear as frightening as his reputation painted him.

"This your first time?" the woman asked, gentle and unimposing. As if Riku's virginity were as boring, or commonplace, as rice. Just the suggestion made Riku's ears hot, and did nothing to loosen his jaw.

Summer tilted his head, a curious smile leftover on his face. Then, he giggled, bending down in a stretch. "Bleh!" he cried, voice different than before – no longer song, but bright and crass and childlike, "Thought that guy would never leave." He held his hips like they ached.

It was too much – the God of Summer, no, the _whore_ , and the damn promiscuous monk, and Axel's teasing Riku _knew_ would follow this entire affair no matter which way it went– Riku couldn't do this. He spun, reaching for the door but –

The young man caught his wrist. "Hey, where you going, handsome?" Riku chanced a glance over his shoulder, and almost instantly drowned in the blue of the young man's eyes. They were a perfect deep ocean blue – Riku had never seen a monsoon, but this escort held one in his eyes.

This was stupid. Axel was stupid. Riku was stupid, for listening, for coming here, for finding the sun in this stifling place. And _this place_ – "Far away from this stupid place," Riku said, eyes snapping away, "Unhand me."

But the brunet laughed again, a high trilling thing. "Aww, c'mon – since you're already here, why don't we have some _stupid_ fun?" He winked again. Behind him, the woman in blue sighed, the ghost of a smile on her lips. She hid it immediately behind a graceful hand.

 _Stupid fun?_ How could it be _fun_ , when Riku didn't know what he was doing and Summer would know and burn him for it? But the man was tugging him, eyes wide and expectant, mouth set in such a playful smile Riku wondered if maybe he _was_ in the wrong place after all. Before he knew it, Riku had no fight left, and let himself get dragged down the hall. The escort called back to Blue, "Thanks, Madam Aqua; I won't take any more clients tonight, okay?"

"Understood," she called back, and the two disappeared past another sliding door, just as smooth and light. It closed quietly, so quietly, anyone could hear Riku gulp.

* * *

The tatami mat under his tucked knees was quiet, despite his weight; though Riku was like a stone on it, spine so straight and stiff he might be mistaken for the buddha statuette in the corner. He purposefully kept several inches away from the bedding, also red, red like his insides twisting at what he was here for, red like Summer who babbled like a storm and then left before Riku could even say another word.

Before Riku could feel anything but red, the prostitute returned with tea on a tray. He set it to the side as he approached Riku, talking as he bowed and sat directly in front of him. "You're in luck; the tea is fresh today," he said, chipper and completely oblivious to the nervous wreck that was in his room.

"I'm Sora, by the way." He bowed again, though it was little more than a nod. If Riku had ever bowed so half-heartedly in front of his superiors, it would have meant certain dishonor. But they weren't here, and Summer's – no, _Sora's,_ smile riddled Riku's care to nothing.

With a sigh, he replied hesitantly, "Riku."

"Riku," Sora repeated, eyes lit up like the sun through clouds, "Riku, as in Lord Axel's right hand? The _Tsuki Ryuujin_? That Riku?"

"You... you know me?"

"Of course," Sora tilted his head, "It's all everyone is talking about – of your arrival. How long are you staying in Edo?"

"Just a week, this time," Riku said, still bewildered that his name had reached farther than the five feet that circled his commander. Because Axel was a man of fiery power and reputation, Riku, his stoic right hand, often went unnoticed. For a samurai, this wasn't a vice, but nonetheless had consequences.

One of which, led him here.

"Hmm," Sora said. He scooted close enough that their knees touched; Riku suppressed a flinch, watching warily. The courtesan leaned in, quick like the tide and just as experimental. Riku instinctually leaned away – scoffing after because he knew he _failed_ a test. Sora returned with another brilliant, but snarky, smile, putting his elbows on Riku's knees, resting his head in the palms of his hands.

"Then, how did you get _here_?" Sora asked, his curiosity just as passionate as the color of his kimono. "You don't seem like the type to just..." He twirled a hand to explain the rest and let his glance meander around Riku's face, down around his shoulders, down to his hands in his lap.

Riku tensed again. "My... friends put me up to it," he replied, pathetically, because Sora _definitely_ knew Riku was _inexperienced_ , completely out of place, and still second in command to the most powerful lord in Japan; he'd be the gossip of the town, at this rate.

Sora laughed, short but loud enough to fill the room. "You're too honest!" he said, "You could have just _lied_ about coming, you know?"

Riku nodded, feeling the blood in his ears, and looked away. He could still hear the laughter reverberating in his head.

Sora withdrew his elbows, but touched his thigh gently. The rest of him transformed into something gentle, too, the dim room only softening his edges more. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, okay?" Sora said.

Riku paused; what _did_ he want to do? Now that Sora wasn't laughing at him, just observing Riku quietly, he remembered that he came here of his own volition. Yes, Axel ordered him here – as a test, or lesson, or something, but if he were honest with himself, he didn't come here on orders. He came here because…

Even through his own kimono, Sora's touch was warm. And Riku was so, so cold.

"No, I… I want to," Riku replied, letting his legs jut to the side so he could scoot onto the futon. Sora's eyes lit up, and Riku rushed to explain, "I just… haven't done this before." Riku begged the four walls around them to soak up his words till they were gone.

Sora chuckled like he knew and didn't. "Haha, too honest again…" Slowly, he crawled to Riku and straddled him, pushing him back softly. Both Sora and Riku knew Riku could easily toss him away, but he didn't. When he settled, a foreign weight on Riku's hips that he was astounded to realized he… liked, Sora breathed, "But okay then."

And instantly, Sora was something else – eyes falling to stormy crescents, grin dropped, and _did he spread his legs farther apart_? Riku froze staring at Sora's crimson kimono, hitching higher and higher on his thighs and yes, he had to be doing this on purpose because then Sora was ducking down – deft and soft fingers dipping under the fold of Riku's yukata pulling, brushing skin, while his _lips–_

Every kiss Sora peppered on his neck, his collar bones, his chest made his skin raise in little bumps, chilling and warming and _dizzying_. Riku laid there, awkwardly, a cumbersome statue again, wondering just _what_ he should be doing, wondering what Sora was doing to him so fast, or _how_ , and –. His touch took Riku's blush with him, heart beating so hard Sora could probably feel it on his lips.

Sora paused when Riku's obi prevented any more skin exposure, sat up, but kept a hand against his chest. Riku looked away, as there was no conceivable way Sora didn't notice his heart pounding in his chest. But the escort said, "Definitely samurai."

"What?" Riku asked, more like spat, flustered and confused.

Sora tilted his head, and with a wicked grin trailed his fingers down Riku's chest to his abs, well-defined but sensitive. Riku sucked in his stomach by instinct. Sora replied, "Strong heart, strong body, quick instincts – samurai."

He seemed satisfied by Riku's incredulous scoff, and dove back down. His kisses were leisurely around Riku's ribs now, closing into the abs he touched. Riku still couldn't hold back the fluttering flinches. He wondered just how long Sora intended to take, and remembered his comment to Madam Aqua that Riku would be his last client for the day.

Riku glanced to the side, lips pursed. The Buddha statuette in the corner was laughing at him.

"You don't have to just lay there, you know," Sora mumbled with some amusement, his hands tugging deftly at Riku's obi knot.

Then, do _what_?

Maybe it showed in his eyes, because Sora took one of Riku's limp hands and placed it on Sora's thigh, under his kimono. That damn kimono, so eager to draw higher, so eager to draw red on Riku's cheeks. "You're adorable," Sora teased, but voice airy enough that it felt sincere, "Touch me wherever you want."

 _Want…_ that word again. He trailed his gaze down Sora's frame, so padded by the thick garment, and stopped where his hand rested. Sora's thighs were warm, somehow soft but firm at the same time, and clear of all imperfections. Riku, nervous but fascinated, passed a thumb over the peak of muscle. _So soft_ , he thought, and suddenly he could understand why youth was so worshipped. Even his thigh hair, a sparse field of cinnamon brown, was soft.

Sora made a noise of encouragement, a soft "mm." He had untied both the obi and the strings of the yukata, pulling them to the side. It was then that Sora let his kimono slip from his shoulders, untying his obi with unnatural quickness and ease. His arms, his chest, were just like his thighs; unmarred, sugar brown skin warm and youthful. He was toned and wiry despite his _profession_ , but just as graceful and beautiful.

Sora basked in the attention Riku couldn't help but give him, stripping with all the airs and dignity of a prince. After all, there was no use for shyness for him. Still, Sora tilted his chin toward his shoulder, eyes lidded with sultry intent. It worked, because Riku found himself staring at the spot where his jaw met his neck and swallowed dryly. The spell was only broken when his eyes drifted down, down, when he realized Sora was wearing nothing under that kimono, nothing but air between Riku's hand, and Sora's cock. And he was red again, his own dick twitching at the sight.

Sora was wholly unaffected. Before Riku could blink, Sora had Riku's fundoshi untied and out of the way, leaving him just as exposed. He was half-hard already, and Sora wasted no time to grab him, stroking gently. Which was a lightening strike to every nerve, and it took every ounce of energy for Riku not to seize up.

The only thing Riku allowed himself to do in reaction was hiss; his mind quickly began reeling that this was _happening_ , and with Sora, who had years of experience compared to Riku's none, who was beautiful and youthful and graceful compared to Riku who– who was stone, who was cold. If Sora was summer, Riku was winter; eager to steal the warmth with nothing to give in return.

Not that Sora showed it; he was back to kissing Riku's chest, open-mouthed and wet. It sent shivers straight to Riku's core – so distracting – coupling with the strange, new heat Sora was generating with his ministrations; _distracting_. Sora's strokes were steadily increasing in speed, and length, covering more and more of Riku's cock as he hardened. Riku found himself gripping Sora's thighs, touch trailing higher the more he forgot himself, until his thumbs were tracing Sora's hip. It produced happy sighs from his escort, his breath ghosting tantalizingly across him, only encouraging Riku's hesitant touches more.

When Riku's hips jerked up instinctually from Sora's strokes, Sora slowed, and pulled up. With a lick of his lips that Riku felt in his _core_ , Sora said, "You still want to?"

"Yes," Riku breathed, body _screaming_ that this was just crumbs, he needed _more_.

Sora's lips upturned in a smile sly and victorious. "I'm going to ride, so you can just lay back." He winked.

"Are you sure–" Riku tried to rise up on his elbows, but Sora nested his fingers in the top of Riku's hair, and held him back. All words died on Riku's tongue as he watched Sora lift himself expertly, aligned Riku's cock to his hole, and sank down.

Riku nearly choked on the sensation; Sora was so _hot_ , and tight, and slick which – Riku had just enough sense left to feel a pang of guilt when he put together why. But, fuck, it felt wonderful, and nearly made Riku cum right then and there. But he barely held it back, for the express purpose of wanting to know what Sora meant by _ride_. But Sora sat still on him, panting and watching Riku breathe just as hard.

"Good, right?" Sora practically purred, and cackled when Riku sent him a glare. "Good," he hummed.

Riku only got to exhale one more time before Sora rolled his hips. A groan, low and hardly suppressed, left Riku's throat. "Just enjoy it," Sora commanded, as if Riku could relax or "just" do anything, before adding, "not every day I get to tame a dragon."

Riku wanted to retort but it was swallowed with another roll of Sora's hips – but it was even more torturous, because he didn't stop this time. His thrust lead straight into another, slow and intentional. Riku couldn't do anything but watch and attempt to breathe, overwhelmed by the tightness, the ecstasy pooling in his hips, Sora's eyes now lidded and dark and deep like they held secrets and mysteries but only watched _him_ , Sora's chest rising and falling with little gasps.

His skill proving itself in every movement, Sora rode and still managed let his hands explore, fingers finding their way back to the hills and valleys of Riku's stomach and chest. Riku's senses stolen by Sora tight ass, he didn't flinch from Sora's touch – no, this time he stared, incredulously, how Sora never took his eyes off Riku, his body, his face. He knew Sora probably had trained himself to do this for everyone, but damn if it didn't work on Riku anyway. He felt _wanted_ which was almost as alluring and impossible as Sora himself.

Riku didn't notice when his hips naturally began jerking to thrust up, seeking _deeper_ and _more_ and the _release_ his body was so quick to beg for. Riku didn't know his body could be so far from his control, but he had no stream of consciousness to take it back.

Sora was right. He'd been tamed.

And Sora's _voice_ ; his little groans, triggered by the snap of Riku's hips, were near driving Riku crazy, Sora's pretty, open mouth a torturous invitation too far away and – _fuck_ , too good. His body drank every touch of Sora's hands, every squeeze of his ass, the delicious friction like Riku was an endless, empty pool that could siphon every bit of bliss Sora's body could offer. But their eyes met, and too soon, abruptly, before Riku knew it was happening, he was overflowing. Sora's eyes were the sea before, but now they were blue flame, and it consumed Riku before he could blink to break the connection.

And his blood must have been oil, because the rest of Riku caught flame, igniting every nerve with white hot ecstasy. His back tensed, and a gasp that ended in a groan of, " _Sora_ " left him, but he hardly noticed it. He came harder than he _ever_ had before – was left burning and spasming under Sora until the pleasure was small, warm waves.

And Sora watched all of it with a soft grin, silhouette glowing; the rolling of his hips slowed, as if milking Riku for the last shivers his body could muster. God, and how easily his body gave into Sora's requests. Riku settled back into the emptiness, void of even the energy to wipe the sweat from his face.

Sora fell to the side of him, Riku's cock sliding out damp and sated. Effortlessly, Sora propped himself up on an elbow on his side, drawing little shapes on Riku's chest. "How's that for stupid fun?" he asked, sticking his tongue out.

How did Sora have the _energy_ for words? Riku was still too high to register anything but the simple desire to pull him closer, to hold him. Which was stupid. Riku blinked slowly, brow knitting together.

"You..." Dumb thoughts about how he was sorry Sora would need to clean up, and dumb questions if there was an onsen near or if Sora was hungry crossed his mind. And he didn't say any of them.

But Sora giggled – it reached his eyes, unlike the grin that he sent his previous customer. "Wow, you're _gone_. You really were a virgin, weren't you?"

Riku didn't think that warranted a response. The truth, though out in the open, didn't matter. The kagema could think what he wanted. What did catch his attention, though, was Sora's cock, still half-hard and leaking pre-cum.

It left a strange feeling in Riku's gut. Axel's task, no, command, briefly floated across his mind – thought about how lovers consisted of those who loved, and those who were loved, and how useless it all was if both weren't satisfied. Maybe it didn't matter to most.

Sora was saying something, talking with his hands, hair windswept and buoyant though there was no wind. Riku interrupted, "You didn't cum."

Mid-sentence, Sora stopped. He blinked. "Um, yeah, but that's okay – I didn't expect to." His grin faltered to something curious, and unsure.

"But you're supposed to be loved," Riku explained, though the language left a blush on his cheeks that was infuriatingly inappropriate given the situation – not that his body would cooperate with anything Riku wanted, it seemed. "Can I?"

Sora blinked again, smile gone completely and replaced with shock. "You want to..." He recovered a little, "What is it you want to do?" He tilted his head charmingly, "I'm at your disposal."

Riku wondered if he had said something wrong, for Sora's courtesan charade to so quickly resume. When he reached out to Sora's hip, and Sora didn't recoil, he cupped the side gently and brought him closer. Their faces drew near, but Riku didn't try to pull him in. Curled in, Sora appeared almost vulnerable, and the last thing Riku wanted was to scare him away.

"The thing you did before we... Let me do it you," Riku asked.

"Riku, you really don't have to," Sora replied, biting his lip. He looked down between them, where Riku's hand rested, to his exposed arousal, and back up to Riku with an awed bewilderment. "Most customers don't, you know. I could... do it myself, if you wanted to watch."

He got the impression that that was a frequent request, but that would be useless to Riku right now. He shook his head. "No, I want to please you."

Sora scoffed softly, and then bit his lip in thought. Really, his lips were too beautiful for the abuse of his teeth, but Riku didn't say anything. Riku spent a lot of time not saying things – had a lot of practice.

After a moment, Sora met his eyes. "You can, but I have a request."

Riku lifted one brow. Sora continued, "Your hair. Can I ... pull it down?" His hand gingerly went to thick hair bunned at the top of Riku's head. It tickled the small hairs at the base and Riku shivered.

"It's longer than it appears," Riku warned him, but Sora didn't seem persuaded. So, he nodded once, acquiescing though the request was strange.

Sora smiled again, another that seemed to lighten the room. With practiced, nimble fingers, the knot was undone and Riku's silver hair poured down. Sora guided the waterfall over Riku's naked shoulder, hands trailing over it. "It's beautiful," Sora whispered, and... Riku wanted to love him again.

"Touch wherever you want," Riku echoed back to him, instead. Sora's affirmative smirk was all he needed before grabbing his half-soft dick. Whatever shyness, whatever nervousness he had before must have melted under Sora's sun, still warming Riku.

But he didn't have time to think about it, because Sora gasped, clearly surprised as his smile disappeared. He briefly hid in Riku's chest like he'd fallen there, but released the choked air and leaned back again. Riku kept his strokes firm and steady, technique-less and plain, watching. He didn't know what was _right_ , but replication was simple.

Sora hardened fast in his hand, his body just as dynamic as the person who occupied it. Now the giver, Riku became acutely aware of everything Sora did. He was so _expressive_ , quick to moan, flutter his eyes, and grip or scratch at Riku. When he tilted his nose into Riku's silver locks, near nuzzling it, with a soft, " _Ah_ ," Riku realized – and said aloud, "They don't touch you."

" _Ah_ – n-no," Sora stuttered, blushing, _actually blushing,_ "Not for my sake."

"Mm." When Riku didn't respond further, fascinated and distracted by how different Sora's body was now, practically shivering against him just from his hand, Sora groaned, " _Faster_ – like, like this." He grabbed Riku's wrist, pushing it to go lower and then up again. Sora exhaled in relief – so Riku copied what Sora explained, earning cute, louder whines. He hoped the walls were absorbing the sounds again, because he wanted to keep them for himself.

The more worked up Sora became, the closer he drew – in mute observation, Riku watched the brunet intertwine their legs, a hand alternating between embracing the small of Riku's back or digging his nails in. Riku deserved it, because there were pink lines on Sora's thighs, climbing up high to his hips and the plump of his ass, though Riku didn't even _remember_ gripping there.

"Fuck–" Sora muttered, then demanded, "harder." This time Riku didn't need a demonstration, and his reward was the ocean rolling back till Riku could see more white than blue.

That made Riku warm.

"Riku, I'm–" Riku hyper-focused on _not stopping_ or slowing, appreciative that Sora could warn him, unlike himself. But Sora glared, withdrawing the hand on his back to cover the tip of his dick, the other nesting in Riku's hair – Riku thought it would be _impossible_ to feel desire so soon, but Sora losing composure on him sent a shock of knotting, twisting want through him.

And Sora came. Riku knew by the breaking, high pitched moan that got lost in Riku's hair and shoulder as Sora shuddered and curled into them. Riku was memorizing the flush on Sora's cheeks, his hot breath that floated across Riku's collar bones, his twitching limbs – though why, he had no answer.

"Sto– stop, _uhn_ , Ri–"

He released Sora's cock, near-bashful, because he'd entirely forgotten to slow or stop. The brunet sighed, stilling all at once. His skin shined with a sheen of sweat, even his chest red like he'd bloomed.

The quietest he'd been all evening, the brunet was content to just breathe for several minutes; though Riku noticed him twirling locks of silver around his finger. Riku took the liberty of pushing some of his rich brown locks from his sticky forehead.

His first noise after that was an airy giggle. "You're… too sweet. Just a little practice, and you could take my job."

Riku scoffed, glancing to the side in diffidence. "Practice?" he muttered, frowning. _Sweet?_

"I'd volunteer," Sora sighed, staring at his hand covered in his own release.

* * *

After re-dressing and a cup of tea later, Riku was pushing himself out the door.

"You could leave in the morning, you know," Sora reminded him, frowning as he leaned against the open shoji. He had followed Riku to the front. "Really, happens all the time."

"Thank you, but no," Riku replied, thinking about how much shit he was already going to get from Axel for being gone this long.

The brunet quickly gave up, but smiled. "Alright then. Safe travels, my dragon. Don't suppose I can convince you to come back?"

Riku paused at the nickname. "I… don't know," he said, truthfully, "We travel a lot." Somewhat whiplashed from the last few hours, Riku wasn't even sure if he'd have the gall to even walk down this street again. Like the man who left before, his feet felt heavy even getting _this_ far, like a drunkard meandering home.

Sora nodded, then bit his lip again, hands fidgeting in the sleeves of his kimono. "Stay there," he murmured.

Thoughtless, Riku obeyed, eyes widening as Sora reached up to his chin, held it still, and leaned up. He placed a soft peck on Riku's cheek, lingered there for a moment both brief and infinite, and then shrunk back down like a recoil.

"For earlier," he said, glaring at the ground from the corners of his eyes as his mouth pouted.

Before Riku could respond, Sora whirled on his heel, and walked away. Like the sun setting behind the hills, he took the light, the warmth, with him, rounding the corner. The foyer was cold and blue without him.

One hand on his cheek, Riku took a step back, and slid the shoji closed.

* * *

A/N: For those who have watched Miss Hokusai, yes, the beginning was based entirely on the brothel scene! It was my inspiration for this :3 jalksjdfa I'm so excited for this fic, guys, I've had the idea for literally months now.

If you liked this, please comment/fave/etc, so I know you exist? It's a huge motivator ^/^ If not, I'm always available on Tumblr to chat as kaiserin-astraia or astraia-writes! And if you _really_ like me, I do have a ko-fi as /astraia.

Updates soon! I hope to be posting once every two weeks~


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay, guys, I started a new job & they flew me out for training for like four (4) weeks and wow I was stressi and depressi and my writing came to a grinding halt. But I'm home finally, and *crosses fingers* am back into the swing of it.

Second apology, here's some more words I use in this chapter:  
\- **Engawa** : google images makes way more sense but its basically a Japanese porch that encircles the entire building.

\- **Geta** : Japanese sandals

\- **Shudo** : the way of the samurai; a lot of this had to do with loyalty, and honor.

\- **Wakashuu** : This refers to the samurai underling that lords and daimyos would often take as lovers (consensually) and train to become full-fledged samurai (think a squire in medieval Europe). Historically, a wakashuu is a boy anywhere between 10 to 25; that being said, all characters are of-age (18+) in this fic, because I will gladly sacrifice historical accuracy for the sake of not being gross. The relationship is exclusive, except for women (both men could have female relationships, if they wanted, but not with other men). And yeah. Yay for weird history.

\- **Ohime-sama** : Princess.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

The sun, warm and bright and climbing ever higher at an alarming pace, was the least colorful part of Riku's morning. The grass, the wood in their practice swords, the deep navies and reds and purples of their yukata – they were all _brilliant_ today. Distracting. Drowning.

"Stop going easy on me!" Roxas cried, swinging his arm overhead, sword coming down with it. His blonde hair was gold today; his eyes, shining and _blue_ as the sky, as Sora's –

Riku easily deflected it, but at the very last second – and blinked. _Focus_ , he told himself, adjusting his footing as Roxas lunged again. He instinctually gripped his hilt tighter. Again, Riku dodged fluidly, but chose to parry in retaliation, hitting the blonde in the side. He pulled the hit so that it wouldn't bruise, but Roxas could tell instantly – he glared, a look sharper than any blade.

Roxas growled in frustration, and Riku barely held back an eye-roll. Steadying himself, he waited for the next attack without comment. He didn't have to wait long, because Roxas tossed his sword to the other hand and lunged again, trying an undercut slash. They clashed wood, hard enough to make a sharp clack sound, bashing into each other again, and again, until Riku became bored of that, and pushed back until Roxas stumbled back.

The blonde scrambled backwards, barely able to keep his footing. Swiping haphazardly to keep Riku at bay, he renewed his furry as Riku closed in. But one well-placed jab into his shoulder, and it was clear that Riku won.

"You'd be dead," Riku told him, "If this were a real fight."

Roxas groaned, almost a growl, "That's _why_ we wear _armor_."

Riku opened his mouth to lecture on why that didn't matter, that any opening was weakness, but he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. "Alright, alright," Axel disseminated them, "Rox, take a break – samurai keep a level head, yeah?"

Roxas glared at the lord, but then quickly sent the look to his own sword hand, where the abused, dented wood rested. He gripped it tighter, and ground out, "Fine." He stomped toward them, to pass them for the glorified stick pile where they stuck their training weapons, but Axel stopped the blond with a hand to his cheek.

"Drink water," Axel continued, lower and soft, "And hey, I'll train with you later, okay?"

Roxas scoffed, but leaned into the touch with a blush. "You're busy," he reminded them both, "Don't spoil me."

Riku crossed his arms. Who was it who woke him before dawn to train? Who was it who prodded (literally and verbally – he brought the swords with him) Riku until they fought, barely making it out of his bedroom before they were clashing wooden sticks? The brat only showed restraint for Axel. But it was clear he wanted the attention, so why play games about it?

Still, Axel laughed, smile wide, "Don't take away a lord's few pleasures. I'll come get you when I have time."

Nodding into the hand, the blonde finally left. As soon as he was out of earshot, Riku huffed, "If you keep giving him special attention, he'll only know how to fight _you_."

Axel laughed again, shaking Riku's shoulder. "What's that? You saying I'm predictable?"

The samurai scowled. "No, I'm _saying_ –"

"C'mon," Axel interrupted, "have breakfast with me."

It wasn't like Riku could refuse, even if he wanted to. Axel strolled confidently ahead of him, guiding them to _engawa_ that separated the house from the garden. Axel barely had his _geta_ off before he plopped himself onto the edge, one leg propped on the wood while the other dangled off, foot in the grass.

Riku sat next to him, legs crossed. If it weren't Axel he'd sit proper, but after so many years, he knew better than to exercise formality. Right after, as if they were waiting, two women served them simple onigiri. Riku hadn't realized how hungry he was until he bit down and tasted the rice; he hadn't eaten since before meeting Sora the night before, he remembered. And then, it tasted better, somehow.

Axel ate, too, seemingly deep in thought as he stared over the garden – the sand and the rocks and the small trees. "I think we should head North, next," he said, more suggestion than plan.

Riku swallowed a mouthful of rice. "Why?"

"Oh, right," Axel remembered, "you weren't here last night. One of our messengers returned; seems someone's causing trouble in Nikko."

Riku tilted his head. "That's true any direction we go."

The redhead chuckled, nodding, "You're right, and you should say it." He sighed, stretching before grabbing another onigiri. "Oh! I just remembered," his face lit up, grin stretching mischievously, "The reason I took you out here – did you go see Madam Aqua?"

And suddenly, Riku wasn't hungry. "No," Riku replied, looking away, "I... saw... a different person."

"Hmm?" Axel said dangerously, and Riku knew this was just the beginning of this conversation, "Then who did you see? Someone else suit your fancy?" Before Riku answered, he burst out laughing, "Just kidding – like you have one."

Scowling, Riku retorted, "I saw someone named Sora. He was... available, when I went."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "He?" When Riku nodded, cheeks blazing, Axel burst into raucous laughter again, so hard he laid back. "Wow. Ha! You refuse to take a pupil, but you go fuck a man anyway?" All Riku could retort with was a frown – the thought of explaining what happened was too embarrassing. Axel continued, "Only you would turn down the most beautiful escort in Edo... well, I guess except me, hmm." He muttered like an afterthought, "I guess I should apologize to Marluxia, then..."

Axel hadn't taken any other lovers since Roxas – which, was customary in the shudo way, but still surprising given Axel cared little for "customs" and rules of any kind. Some blamed all of Axel's (few) failures on his complete disregard for tradition, while others lauded it to be the entire reason he was so successful. As Riku stared at his lord, his closest friend, piercing green eyes both playful and analytical in every moment, he would place his opinion somewhere in the middle. Tradition had nothing to do with the fact that Axel was nothing but amazing at what he did.

At least, until he got these harebrained schemes for teaching Riku or Roxas lessons, which happened unnervingly often, as in now, and always resulted in Riku being the butt of cringeworthy jokes for a least a season.

Riku sighed. "Well, I fail to see how that was supposed to teach me…" He felt too embarrassed to specify, so he paused, and finished, "anything."

The lord's wolfish smile did nothing to assuage Riku's fears. "You make it sound like you didn't enjoy it, but you slipped back here later than you _ever_ have." He scooted closer, his black and maroon yukata loosening from the friction of the wooden floor, face open and eager for Riku's worst nightmare – details. He wanted to groan in disgust, but Riku was _not_ Roxas, so he held his tongue. They stared each other off until Axel broke into a scowl, "I promise I won't tell Rox."

Riku would never admit it, but Axel's secrecy helped. With a bashful frown, Riku joined Axel on his side, leaning on an elbow. "Fine," Riku said, glancing at the poor knot of Axel's obi and was reminded of how easy Sora slipped his off. He smiled. "I'll tell you."

It wasn't a long story, but Axel's questions kept them there – shooing attendants away and shirking the many duties Axel wasn't going to do anyway. He only had nods and jokes most through Riku's succinct narration, but once he mentioned Sora's pleasure, Axel cut him off.

"You did what? You're serious?" he exclaimed, red eyebrows near merging with his high hairline.

Riku just looked back at him, entirely unsurprised to be interrupted. "Of course. I'm the lover."

The lord stared blankly back – and then coughed in the back of his throat, a scratchy sound, and devolved into laugher. "Pfft, you–" he looked again at Riku's blank face, and began giggling, "You– because… you're the _lover_?"

Sourly, Riku replied, "I don't get what's so funny about it." Though he couldn't cross his arms in this positions, his shoulders naturally tensed.

Axel didn't care, and kept laughing as long as he pleased. His sigh was still laced with chuckling when he finally replied, "Ahhh… Riku. He's a whore, you have no obligation to go _that_ far."

' _That far_ '? Was there some invisible line Riku had crossed? But then– "And do what? Just lay there?"

Axel let out a gravelly sigh and shook Riku's shoulder in exasperation. " _Yes!_ Or wait. No." Riku blinked at him. Axel put his long fingers on his nose bridge, sighing again. "Look. We teach our men to fight by pairing them off, by fighting each other. We teach them battle by throwing them into it. This is the same thing, yeah?"

Huffing, Riku disagreed, "It's not the same. I didn't go to the brothel to learn how to have sex." He hated how his cheeks felt warmer by the end, like a goddamn bashful boy. He met Axel's gaze fiercely as if that hid his embarrassment.

After a blink, he combed through his mane of crimson locks with his fingers, chuckling. "Oh, man. How do I explain this." It was less of a question than a statement of futility, and Riku narrowed his eyes. Axel began slowly, "When I was a boy, Lord Xehanort told me that between death, and blood, and love, and life, there has to be a balance. As much as I hate to say it, I think he was right, about that." Because Axel's expression had turned somber, steely eyes shining like a fire burned within, Riku didn't interrupt – but just that man's _name_ made Riku grit his teeth, hand itching for a sword. "Riku, you're all fighting, and fire, and blood since the day I met you – and that makes you a damn good warrior. But to live, you have to have both." Axel faltered, glancing at him with concern that made Riku's mouth taste bitter, and sighed uncertainly. "I want you to have both," is what he clarified, softer.

"Lea," Riku said, then abruptly stopped, because that name was dead even if the person wasn't. A name behind closed doors, one that few knew, even amongst his own army. But Riku didn't take the word back, because it was the name of his best friend. But that was all he _could_ say; the rest of the words, whatever they had been, died on his tongue. Maybe Axel was right after all; everything he touched did die.

But Axel gave a nostalgic smile, and let it grow mischievous with glances over his shoulder – looking if anyone heard. "Phew – no one around," he joked, "I didn't want to kill anyone today."

Everything Riku touched died, and every part of him a blade; his words too, Axel reminded him.

The redhead laughed off his comment, but Riku couldn't bring it in him to join. When Riku simply stared, face completely devoid of anything, Axel gazed out over the garden again. "I think we will go to Nikko next." He'd decided; the command was in his voice. He turned back. "And, next time we come back, go again."

" _Go_?"

Axel's wicked smile quickly resurrected, and he lightly punched Riku's shoulder. It didn't hurt, but Riku rolled it anyway, the motion taking the tightness in his chest with it. Lea said, "You heard me. As your _friend_ , I think next time we're here you should go back, see someone again. If that doesn't work, I'll order you to, got it memorized?"

"Ugh," Riku sighed, rolling his eyes this time – but his complaints were insincere. He didn't understand what Axel wanted from him, not really, but the thought of seeing Summer again… made him warm. "Fine." A smile wormed it's way on his face, turning to see Axel's mischievous one.

"Smiling dumb like a _wakashuu_ ," Axel teased, winking, "Maybe I will tell Rox–"

Riku punched him in the shoulder, sitting up. "It's dishonorable to go back on your word, my _lord_ ," Riku emphasized, a smirk teasing the sides of his lips.

"Pfft, I'll show you dishonorable – let's duel," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows. He sat up too, not even bothering to straighten out his yukata, his chest exposed.

"You'll fight me once and then go train with Roxas," Riku countered distastefully.

"You caught me," Axel said, completely unapologetic. "It's our last night here, c'mon – we'll get you so drunk you can't even think anymore; best sake in town."

No amount of sake could make Riku forget Sora – even if he wanted to, which the drink told him he didn't. He fell asleep practically swimming in his own mind, but still managed to dream about the hot summer breeze slipping between the green, green leaves of the trees like the caress of arrows and knives sliding underneath the layers of his armor, and twisting.

* * *

"Thank you for seeing me, _ohime-sama_ ," Sora said sweetly, but lips and tongue lethargic and heavy, as he escorted the woman to the front. She gripped his arm with perfect, manicured nails, digging in just enough to be uncomfortable. Sora didn't mind, though he hoped it wouldn't leave a mark – an escort's clear skin was their value, after all.

The woman sighed, leaning her weight on him even as they walked. "If only I weren't married, Sora..."

Sora kept the smile on his face. Another valuable talent. "Oh? Princess, you flatter me. I'm unworthy of your attention." It was scripted, but he executed the statement with grace, throwing in a sardonic wink.

She giggled but didn't argue. Sora was grateful the hall was short. They reached the front where Larxene waited, her melancholic, irritated face shifting into the worst smile as they approached. The fakeness gave her grin a sinister touch, but sated client was too high and light to notice. Quickly producing yen, she shoved the coins into Larxene's hand, giggling like it was all a game.

Sora guessed it was, in its own right. A love game where no one won, except whose hands get filled with coin.

The woman turned away from Larxene and looked back up into Sora's face, way too close and eyes wide in anticipation. "I'll see you again soon," she promised, eyelashes falling delicately, deliberately across her pretty pink cheeks.

"Nothing would make me happier," Sora said, gushing. He lifted her hands and squeezed, but kept his lips away. She continued to look expectantly until she understood, and then blushed.

"O-oh, Sora, you're so... ahem, I must go," the princess said, strangely awed, and shuffled away. Larxene and Sora watched her go silently, but Sora waved and held his breath until the shoji slipped closed.

Larxene was quick to speak when she left. "She paid double, again," she said with a gleeful cackle, displaying the money proudly in her outstretched palm, "What _are_ you doing to her?"

Sora went through his mental list and somehow felt more tired– but still had the decency to blush and look away indignantly. "A-ah, well, you know."

"Well, keep doing it, whatever it is!" She adjusted herself in her kimono, "She's quite attached, you know."

He did know. She'd come twice a week for two months. What did they say about infatuation? That overindulgence was the best way to squander it?

He couldn't wait.

Larxene, laughing wickedly under her breath as she counted out coins, was done with the conversation as soon as she had started it. Slipping the coins into her small, black and yellow clutch, she headed to the door without another word, but there was no question where she was going; she'd be back, bottle in hand, already swaying.

He sighed as soon as she disappeared from sight, letting the smile slip from his face. His face felt like a Kabuki mask; fake and stiff. Rubbing the sides of his mouth idly, he gazed around the entryway. The light in the room was dim, the nearly set sun creeping through the cracks in the wood of the wall, the door. He'd memorized every one of them, always waiting for the next day that he could slip through them into the light.

 _Kairi_ , was what he needed, he felt more than thought. His feet padded softly, tiredly across the floor to the very back of the hall, darker with each step. The light was on through her door, so he paused, listening to see if she was still ... working.

But it was silent. Smiling in relief, he went to pull the shoji – but it was opened for him.

"Oh!" A feminine voice gasped. Sora nearly met his chin to his chest before he saw the head of blonde hair, haphazardly placed in the traditional bun.

Instinctually, Sora stepped back, customer smile flitting to his face before he could think. "My apologies, _ohime-sama_! Would you like me to escort you to the door?"

When she met his gaze, Sora first noticed her eyes; they matched his, so, so blue. Then, her blush, so red it made her pink lips pale in comparison. "N-no, I'm, uh, I'm!" Did she just squeak?

Just then, Kairi came up from behind her. "It's okay, Namine. This is Sora," she said softly, hands cupping the girl's shoulders familiarly, "he works here too – he's my friend."

"Oh…" She said pitifully, gaze falling to the floor.

While she fidgeted, Sora and Kairi smiled at each other – the "I'm so glad to see you!" Smile. Only a couple rooms down and yet it'd been days since they'd gotten to talk due to conflicting schedules. Never leaving Sora's gaze, Kairi said with an apologetic smile, "Let me walk you to the front, Nami-chan." She giggled, squeezing her customer sweetly. She nodded meekly.

Sora let them slip past, and then he slipped into the room.

More red. From what Sora had seen, all their rooms were red except Aqua's, to match her enchanting hair, blue as the paint in fine dishes from China. But Kairi's room had a pink hue to it, the many references to sakura littering the room, from the kimono in the closet to her bedding. It was mused now, but Sora's didn't mind; he stole a blanket that had been tossed to a remote corner and laid it out to sit. He knew Kairi wouldn't be long, so he amused himself deciding which incense to burn.

Kairi smelled it as soon as she returned, sighing contentedly as she slid her door shut. "Jasmine. My favorite…" she whirled around, lips quirking, "You didn't get any ashes on my mat, did you?"

"I didn't," Sora reassured her with his first full smile all day, leaning back on his palms, "I swear it!"

She padded lightly next to him, kicking the used bedding away before sitting next to him on the blanket. "You're lucky I'm too tired to check," she told him, but there was no bite behind it.

Sora was going to continue the banter, but noticed her arms shifting in her sleeves. "Oh? What are you hiding, Kairi?" He stared pointedly at her and then her arms.

"What do I have?" she mimicked, before smirking devilishly. But she didn't wait for Sora's answer and pulled her arms apart slowly, deliberately, to reveal a corked bottle. Sora gasped. "Oh my god, Kai, you didn't."

She cackled evilly, pulling the sake out of the sleeve now. Keeping her sleeves high on her arms, she set about pulling the cork. It was loose from previous use. "Oh, but I did!"

"Larx is gonna kill you," Sora said, eyes glued to the bottle in excitement. Suddenly, he knew it was gonna be a great night.

The bottle opened with a low, hollow pong, and Kairi wasted no time taking a swig. She gulped and gulped and then finished with a self-satisfied, " _Ah_." After insisting it into Sora's hands, she added, "She can't miss what she doesn't know is gone!" Like a cat who caught a mouse, she winked.

Sora grinned back. "Then let's make it disappear," he said, before taking a long swig. Oh, it was awful – the taste, the burn down his throat, but oh, it was wonderful.

After a harsh swallow, he pointed to the door with the bottom of the bottle. "So, I hadn't seen Miss Shy before. New?" he asked, nodding slightly to the door.

"Ah, not– not really," she said. There was something wistful in her voice that made Sora look back over. Kairi leaned back against the wall, letting her normally perfect posture slump. Sora handed her back the bottle, and she drank more, her gaze somewhere on the ceiling. She coughed through the swallow, and said, "This was her fifth time."

"Ooh," Sora cooed, joining her against the wall, "You got a regular? I'm so proud."

"Pfft," Kairi scoffed, but smiled at the compliment anyway, "it's not like that." It ended so regretful Sora frowned. She put the bottle in between them now, ready for either to grab at their leisure. "She's getting married and wanted… practice."

"Aw," Sora replied, considering it. Another swig gave him a better response, "But, hey, she's still coming back so…." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"You and your endless optimism," Kairi said sweetly, then sighed, a strangle smile floating to her face. She let her head fall on Sora's shoulder this time, and giggled airily, "Wasn't she gorgeous though?" She gripped the bottle to her chest, close, close enough that the sake inside swayed with her breathing.

"Yeah," Sora agreed, taking note of every tired line on his best friend's face. He wondered if Larxene was overbooking her, judging by the sullen rings under her eyes. Even so, she was more beautiful than anyone that has passed through her doors.

"So fragile too..." she recounted, looking nowhere, "I've taught her everything at least twice and she still freezes up!" She laughed and sighed again, then pouted, "I think a man's love would break her."

Sora snorted. "Sounds like you just want her for yourself."

"Noooooo," she said, very unconvincingly. She took another drink, another big gulp that ended in some bravely masked sputtering.

"Someone's got a crush~" he sang, nudging her cheek with his shoulder. He knew her tells.

"Do you ever stop?" She giggled, pushing him away with a blush. Bingo. He let himself fall over, unconcerned that the tatami mat below him was too hard to be comfortable. His body was feeling lighter already, the alcohol spreading to his head like sleep.

Kairi must have been feeling it too, because she stretched her legs out in front of her, pulling the kimono apart at her knees. She looked over at him again. "Ugh, tell me something I can pick on you for, then."

"I'm still seeing Miss Tamaki, the rich and married one," he mused. Her expectant lips and batting eyes from twenty minutes ago surfaced to his mind, and he frowned.

"Ew," Kairi scrunched up her nose in understanding. "God, that lady, so annoying."

"Yeah but Larxene loves her; she pays double." Sora drank again in regret.

Kairi frowned, "Of course she does. She's so loud I can hear her in here."

"Sorry," Sora apologized immediately, knowing how detrimental that was to the calm, sensual atmosphere all the escorts tried to create with their clients. "I'll try to get her to shut up more next time."

"Boo," Kairi echoed, "next time."

They fell into momentary silence, mostly because Sora was wracking his increasingly fuzzy mind for anyone else to talk about.

Suddenly, his hand remembered silver soft strands sliding through his fingers.

He scrambled up so fast to face his best friend, she squeaked. He blinked to make the room stop tilting. "I forgot to tell you! I saw a samurai!"

She stared back for a whole second, until she gasped. "You saw a samurai?" Her grin mirrored Sora's with increasing enthusiasm, waiting for him to explain.

"I did! Remember Aqua was talking about how Lord Axel was passing through? I–"

"But he's..." she knit her eyebrows together, frown just as quick to take over. She gripped his wrist with concern. "Sora, you didn't see him, right? That's the most dangerous– Larxene wouldn't possibly–"

"No, no! Not him," he reassured her, gripping her hands imploringly. When she exhaled a deep sigh of relief, Sora continued, "Just guess." He practically bounced in place, expectant.

Kairi bit her lip, eyebrows knitting together to think. After so many years, Sora had told her at least five stories for each famous samurai within the last century – which made it very difficult to filter through in her inebriated state.

And Sora, or the sake, couldn't wait either, his inhibitions diminishing as his excitement rose. In her face, he scream-whispered, "It was Axel's right hand – the tsuki ryuujin! Riku!"

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Oh my god, are you serious? Is that–" She swallowed, looking conspiratorially around the room. "Should you have done that?" she whispered, scooting closer to him despite the privacy of the room.

"What, what do you mean?" he asked, near giggling at her serious face.

"What if he has a wakashuu? You'd be dead if he did..." Her frown was somber, imploring, but Sora was having a difficult time connecting the pieces of her statement into his mind into a logical thought.

And then, Sora blinked. Once. Twice. And then abruptly erupt into laughter.

Kairi was outraged. "What! It's a completely reasonable concern!" the redhead huffed, pushing him away by the shoulder.

It took a moment to get his balance back, but when he did, he replied, "Yeah, but... Oh god, Kairi, you _gotta_ hear this."

And Kairi was always ready for a new story.

So, he explained everything that happened, top to bottom – with a lot of giggling pauses. Her look transformed gradually more and more into complete disbelief.

"A virgin?" She finally asked when Sora stopped long enough to breathe. "There's no way!"

"I'm _telling_ you, Kai!" he said, the nickname slipping through, words blurring together.

The sake was in full effect now, Kairi's cheek rosy and eyes warm, lidded. "And he really... Damn, send him my way." She laughed at her own joke.

"No," Sora said, smiling too wide, "He's mine."

"Oh? What if he wants a woman when he comes back?"

Sora pouted, "If he comes back... Then, I guess I'd only let you touch him. You're my favorite."

Kairi winked, and then giggled again – and Sora shook his head when he realized the innuendo, but didn't bother correcting it. Then, his mouth started talking without direction. "I hope he comes back, though. He was so strong, Kai. And his _hair_ – silver, just like in the rumors. It really did hold the moon's, like, shine."

"You just like samurai," Kairi said, slurred. She laid down in Sora's lap, curling in like a child, a drunken smile still on her face.

Sora's hands naturally went to her hair, untying it to play with the red, thick locks. It wasn't as long as Riku's, he thought.

"Maybe," Sora wondered aloud. He was too drunk to tell. He snickered to himself, "Maybe I like dragons."

"What?" Kairi laughed back, her breath ghosting across Sora's knees. "You're drunk."

"No, _you're_ drunk." Her loose kimono – leaving nothing to the imagination –, relaxed posture, hands curled in like a little girl with a doll; she only allowed herself to be so vulnerable at the height of her exhaustion, and as far as Sora knew, around him.

He didn't touch lower than her scalp. After all, after a full day of sex, neither of them wanted the carnal. It was... special this way, anyway. Whatever they were, they were not a performance.

Conversation was getting too difficult to hold. Kairi kept coming back to Namine, and Sora wondered why she hadn't mentioned her before tonight. The redhead had no real explanation, saying nonsensical things how she was afraid if she said it out loud, it'd be real. Sora didn't get it. Nothing was real, here.

Sora began drifting off, fingers slow to detangle her hair, clumsy in his presses.

Kairi sighed when he reached her ears, massaging the the hairline. "Why can't…" Maybe it was the alcohol, or something else, but her voice was thick, "Why can't they all be nice like… like Riku, and Namine?"

He stared off into a corner, or a dresser, or something – Sora didn't know, his vision was so unfocused. Her words settled in like the wind, made him feel weightless, like nothing. And that was it wasn't it? He was nothing. Most people didn't value empty space any more than they valued bowls.

But looking down at Kairi, he couldn't say that. She wasn't nothing, anyway – she was beautiful, and full of life. She was spring, she was the blooming sakura that let its petals fly free – and Sora, Sora wished for nothing more than the be the wind to carry her safely wherever she wanted to land. He couldn't say that either. The words stuck in his throat like soggy, expanded rice.

It was okay, though. With an unconscious murmur like a baby, her eyes fluttered as she fell asleep. They'd done this enough before that Sora had no qualms carefully redirecting her head to the floor while he clumsily climbed up, and found fresh linens in her small closet next to her other kimonos. He tried to set them up for her in at least something that resembled a comfortable futon, but he wasn't sure how successful the result. He was having a hard time staying awake himself. In fact, he thought, looking at her so quickly fall into some dream, her slumbering face so peaceful, maybe he'd stay here for the night. He was probably more comfortable than the blankets, and she was more warm than the empty bed waiting for him down the hall.

Without thoughts of Larxene or Aqua or anyone else, he laid down and pulled Kairi to him. She barely stirred, just enough to curl up again like Sora really was just a pillow. Fine by him. With an arm strewn over her and a blanket mostly covering her but barely covering him, he promptly fell asleep.

He dreamed of riding a silver dragon under the moonlight, cherry blossoms whirling around them even in the clouds.

* * *

A/N: Phew this chapter makes me so nervous. Sorry no smut this time, this was very "hello, I'm world building, don't mind me," but it's gotta go somewhere. Next chapter will resume our regularly scheduled sexy times lmao. As always, if you liked this, shoot me a comment? It motivates me SO much! and if you like, I'm on tumblr as astraia-writes, and twitter as KaiserinAstraia.

Updates soon! - Astraia


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